Hidden Away
by remedyofpain
Summary: Apprehensive she lied to her family and left them in a nursery. Now seventeen years later two people yearn to find the truth; about their past and their history and why it was Hidden Away from them. - Troypay & Ryella -
1. Trailer

**Title: **Hidden Away

**Author**: remedyofpain

**Summary:** She was in consternation when she disabused her grandmother of why she left so abruptly. Now seventeen years later two people yearn to find the truth; about their past and their history that was Hidden Away from them.

**Ratings:** T

**Disclaimer (for all chapters):** I basically own nothing, but if I did _man_ would there be some changes…

I'm sure you'll get confused but the _'blonde lady'_ is Rosetta's mother. Rosetta is…someone you'll find out in the trailer.

This one's for you Queenie, Samz, Jimmy, Tasha, Allie and Herschey :P

_

* * *

_

XD 

**Born into a high respectful family comes with a lot of responsibility,**

_A baby being born into a room of a mansion_

_A blonde woman holding the baby in the air and smiling_

**But not everyone can handle it**

_A girl is holding the sides of her stomach crying_

_The same girl is shown four months later with a bump, still holding her stomach_

"Oh goodness no,"_ she whispers to herself_

**Some run away**

_The blonde woman, as a teen is waiting in a train station_

"Goodbye Cunningham, hello life,"

**Some crack under the pressure**

_The pregnant girl crying to herself in big luxurious bedroom_

_Shows the blonde lady knocking at a varnished oak door_

"Rosetta dear, you've got to come out and tell me what's wrong,"

"Nothing's wrong mother…I'm just tired is all,"_ the girl wipes her face_

**Others…**

_The blonde woman with wide eyes, starring at her stomach shaking her head_

_Shows Rosetta starring at a doctor her mouth hanging open_

"I'm pregnant?!?"

**Not wanting to degrade the family name they cleaned up their acts**

_Shows Rosetta's mother crying as she speaks to her parents_

_Shows Rosetta looking down sadly at two little bundles in front of her_

"It's for both of our benefit," _she touches both of the bundles_

**Seventeen years later two people yearn to find the truth**

"Have you ever wondered what our real parents are like? If they think about us or why they gave us up for adoption?"

_Shows a boy looking deep in thought_, "Nope"

**About their past**

"Wow mom, it's beautiful, where'd you get it?"

_Her mother looks down nervously,_ "Oh you know just something I found in the attic,"

**About their history…**

"Mom, we need to do this.! Not only for the project…but for us."

"Ducky, can we discuss this some other time? I've got lots to do,"

_The boy stomps out of the room leaving his mother sitting alone by a coffee table_

"So dad what did you think when you first laid eyes on us?"

"Well I thought, you and your brother were _it_. I didn't need to see any other kids after that, you two were _the ones_."

"Did you see our real mo-"

"Sharpay…"

_The blonde shrugs and turns away from a man covered in grease over a car hood_

**That was hidden away**

_Shows two women pacing a room worriedly_

_A boy and a girl talking, their backs to the camera with a silver music box with horses behind them on a table_

_The camera zooms on the music box as the horses dance around the box like a Merry-Go-Round_

_XD

* * *

A/N I apologize in advance if I just drop this story like a good ol' game of Hot Potatoes. I just needed something to get my mind off of A Battle a bit so I just made this little thing up. I can't help it if ideas are just pouring out of my ears at the moment but I'm only gonna update it one at a time. God knows I'm not so good at 'multi-tasking' already. Just tell me what you think and I might update, you know, once I don't get banned again. O.O If you've got any comments, suggestions or anything you'd like or want to see happen later down in the story review. _

-Ash


	2. Charlotte and Nathan

**Charlotte and Nathan**

_Dearby and Timothy,_

_It has been a while since I have heard from you two. I hope everything is okay for the moment. I would like to thank you again for taking Charlotte and Nathan under your wing; it seems I have extended my gratitude more times than I can remember. You must excuse me but I don't find Sharpay and Ryan to be very suiting names. I would've appreciated something more graceful, something more Bruleur. I apologize if I am coming off a bit rude but the reason for this letter is for you to give Charlotte and Nathan another family heirloom. _

_Whether they know it or not they are family and it has been passed down from generation to generation so it seems fitting. The music box is for Charlotte and the pocket watch for Nathan. At the top of the music box is an extended piece of silver, turn it and the music box springs to life. The horses around it move to the music, much like a Merry-Go-Round. The stop watch is very simple so I feel no need to explain how it works. Surely everyone knows how a stopwatch works. The music box was made for my great-great-great-grandmother on her sixth birthday and the watch for her brother alike. Surprising enough they were twins much like my two little lovelies. I must leave now, there's lots to deal with at the moment._

_Give them my love,_

_Rosetta._

"How insulting, 'not a suiting name,' what is the matter with her? Haven't we been through this enough times already?" Dearby Evans crumpled the letter, irritated that the mother of her children still wanted to be involved with them. It was her own fault; she chose to give them up for adoption years ago.

"Dearby, calm down, you always let her letters get to you. You mustn't let h-" Timothy cut himself off as he opened the cardboard box that accompanied the letter. He stared in shock at the rubies there were in place of the silver horses' eyes and at the point where every arch touched. It looked like a miniature Merry-Go-Round, just like Rosetta had said. The silver gleamed in the sunlight that came pouring through the kitchen window. "Wow it's…beautiful."

Dearby looked at the music box and stifled a gasp. "It is," she reached into the cardboard box and eagerly took out the pocket watch. It was gold, yet thin and light. A large 'B' was carved on the front and there was a small latch at the side to open it, revealing the face of the watch; a long gold chain was attached so it could also be hung around the neck. There was a thunder coming from the stairs at the side of the kitchen. Timothy and Dearby looked at each other nervously. Dearby slipped the pocket watch over her neck and crumpled the letter smaller into her hand. Timothy looked from the music box to his wife and picked it up, looking for a place to hide it.

"…I'm telling you she's blonde! Look at her parents they're both blonde! How could she be a brunette, Ryan?" a voice traveled into the room before the owner's body was visible. She was wearing white pencil cargo pants and a pink tank top with a short pink glittery jacket over it, hiding her shoulders.

"Sharpay, how could you miss the little truffle of black hair on top of her head?" Ryan emerged in a pair a jeans and a dark blue dress shirt which was, surprisingly, not tucked inside his shirt.

"Morning mom- Oh daddy, what's that?" Sharpay squealed at the thought of owning the big silver thing with horses her father held in front of him.

"It's for you, darling," Dearby forced a smile; "Your father and I were looking through some old family junk and found this for you!" Sharpay's brown eyes widened in excitement.

"Really? Thanks daddy! You guys are the best!" Sharpay ran towards her father, grabbing the music box out of his hands, "What is it?" she asked, gazing at the silver music box before her.

"It's a music box. Here look," Timothy took the music box and turned the top just like Rosetta said to in the letter and rested it down on the kitchen counter. The horses moved around the parasol-like roof.

"So it's a Merry-Go-Round music box? Weird, but awesome!" She cocked her head to the side as she listened to the music. "That sounds-"

"So familiar…" Ryan finished.

Dearby and Timothy exchanged nervous glances before trying to pull the attention away from the silver box, finding this small task hard to do. The four sat and listened for a while, Dearby and Timothy shifted uncomfortably in their seats while the twins stood there listening intently. Sharpay's eyes were glued to the horses turning around in a circle. One horse seemed to interest her the most, it had one gemstone missing where the right eye was supposed to be and it gave her an odd feeling she couldn't really explain. Listening to the music, Ryan felt as if he had heard it a long time ago, probably when he was a baby. He knew that there were supposed to be words but he couldn't remember which exactly.

The music came to an abrupt stop and Ryan and Sharpay snapped out of their daydream to see their mother with her hand on the intricately designed silver lid. She looked uneasy and extremely tense.

"Why don't you two head on off to school now?" she forced a weak smile at the twins then glanced sharply at Timothy.

"Oh-oh yes, you two should head on out now. Don't want to be late!"

"Hey mom where'd you get that?" Ryan pointed to the thin gold pocket watch hanging down over the top of her dress, glittering in the sunlight much like the music box. "It's …awesome…," he stuttered, trying to find the right word to describe the watch. "How old is it?" he mused as Dearby unclasped the chain and reluctantly handed the pocket watch over.

"Age doesn't matter, just put it away and go to school." Timothy cut him off after nodding to his wife.

"Actually daddy, age matters completely. The older it is, the more its worth and if it was owned by someone famous or something like that, it could be worth even more." Everyone turned to look at Sharpay in shock who was still looking at the music box absent-mindedly.

"Where'd you learn that, Kitten?" Dearby asked smiling.

"The internet," she shrugged then left the room.

"Thanks guys…" Ryan turned around and followed Sharpay still musing over the old gold watch. Dearby sat back down, shaking her head and mumbling to herself, then moving to hold her head in her hands while Timothy sat beside her patting her on the back awkwardly.

"Dearby, I don't think we should keep lying to the kids about the gifts. It-it just doesn't feel right." He cleared his throat as Dearby sent him a withering glare.

"What if they look for her and find her? What if they become attached? What if they decide to _move out_?" Dearby shook her head violently at the thought of Rosetta gaining custody of _her_ children. The children she adopted from the new orphanage years ago; right after she had just left them there, alone and parentless; the children she took care of for the rest of their sixteen years and one month; the children she fed, washed, loved and provided all the things a mother should for her kids. Even though they weren't her kids biologically, she loved them more than she ever had imagined she would. She taught them to love their mother even though she gave them up for adoption. The twins were hers and there was no way she was going to risk losing them to _Rosetta,_ who had shamelessly given them away and now wanted them back.

"Well they need to meet her sooner or later. You know this is the same exact thing we talked about before we signed the papers for custody. Maybe it's time for them to-"

"No buts or maybes. They will not be meeting her and that's final." Dearby stalked out of the kitchen, leaving Timothy frustrated and irritated.

Upstairs Sharpay stood on her balcony, enjoying the sun beaming down on her skin. She listened to the birds singing their morning greetings to those who cared to notice, the shuffling of feet from her brother's room and his singing -- loud enough for her to hear but soft enough for her to strain her ears.

"We go together like rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong, remembered forever as shoobop sha wadda wadda yippity boom de boom…" Ryan changed his footing so he walked in time with the song, she could hear it. Sharpay heard him doing his victory dance in his bedroom along with his so-called theme song. She was half surprised he didn't play the song and burst into her room like he always did when their parents got them something. Rolling her eyes she turned her attention back to her music box. She put it on the ledge of her balcony and stared at it intently, barely noticing two figures walking lazily on the sidewalk. One of the figures looked up at the balcony after seeing the music box glittering from the corner of his eye.

The boy slowed down a bit and looked at the silver box with unknown anticipation. He stopped walking and really looked at the music box. _Where have I seen that before?_ Troy didn't even bother to catch up with Chad or at least call out to him and tell him he stopped. He focused on the music box, sweeping past the person holding it without a glance, not caring if it was Ryan or his mother. He knew the Evans lived here, heck everyone knew the Evans lived here. The gold plate on one of their marble pillars next to their intercom gave it away. That and the fact that it was one of the biggest houses in Civilian Broadway, maybe even the whole of Albuquerque. He backed away, trying to get a better view of the music box. He heard Chad call out of surprise and stomped back over to him.

"What are you doing, Troy?" he looked up to where Troy was looking and arched his eyebrows as his view fell upon Sharpay Evans. "Don't tell me you're looking at her." He turned back to Troy who still didn't respond to him. "Troy? TROY!" he waved his hand in front of Troy's face.

"Huh-what? Yeah Chad, what do you want?"

"I want to know why you are staring at the Ice Queen." Chad crossed his arms defiantly, the morning breeze blowing his afro to the side.

"Ice Queen I'm not staring at any Ice…" his words got lost in the wind as he saw Sharpay with her elbows propped up on the ledge of the balcony, her head cocked to the side studying the music box. "Oh…"

"Why? Why? Why? _Why on earth are you staring at Sharpay Evans_?!?!" On hearing her name Sharpay snapped back into reality and frowned, looking for the disturbance.

"I'm not staring at her; I was just…looking at her box!" Sharpay's jaw dropped open after locating the two shouting idiots standing outside of her house. Overhearing Troy's last sentence she stood up and tugged at the bottom of her top, something she always did when she was pissed. She grabbed her music box, sent one last glare at the two and disappeared back into her room. "Crap, I think she heard me!" Troy leaned against the Evans' tall vine-covered wall.

"If you were looking at the box, why would you care if she heard you?" Chad persisted shaking his head.

Troy frowned at how such a simple action could mislead Chad, "When did you get so smart?" Taking Chad's outstretched hand he pulled himself away from their vinery wall and dusted himself off bitterly.

"Taylor," Chad shrugged and dropped the subject, waiting for basketball practice to further question Troy about his sudden affection for Sharpay Evans and her silver box. Troy urged his past memories to come out of their hiding places and show him where he had seen the silver box before. Intrigued, he only listened to half of Chad's ramblings and took one last look at the Evans house.

"Sharpay, Ryan, time to go to school!" Dearby stood at the bottom of the stairs by the kitchen, knocking Sharpay out of her near tantrum and Ryan out of his Ry-time and waited until she heard their thudding coming down the stairs. "I'll see you two at dinner." She held out car keys for Ryan and kissed Sharpay goodbye. "Bye Ducky," she squeezed Ryan in a tight hug before she watched them disappear in Ryan's black CRV.


	3. Home Of The Bruleur

_Sorry for the wait?_

_XD 

* * *

_

**Chapter two**

**Home Of The Bruleur**

"Good morning Giselle," a young blonde lady nodded politely to an aged woman sitting in the estate's breakfast nook, looking out the window sipping a cup of tea. 

"Rosetta, I think we need another addition to our family. You are old enough; you are of age to have a child, even if it is your first and last one. It will be a lovely change for the family. We all know I'm not going to live forever, the doctor says I've got three to five more years, if I'm lucky. I would like to see the future heir of the Bruleur line before my time is up." Rosetta waited patiently for her grandmother to finish talking; she knew how much she hated to be interrupted. While Giselle carried on about child bearing, a maid waltzed into the room and poured Rosetta a cup of tea. 

"Think about the joy on your child's face as it runs up and down the hallway. Now, this may seem a bit rude darling but it's time for you to settle down. You're thirty-three years old and you're not married, and you haven't had any children. Back in my day such things were frowned upon." Rosetta nodded curtly and smiled as she sipped her steaming tea. It broke her heart to know that no one in her family knew she had been pregnant, that she did in fact have children. Twins even.

Feeling a pang in her stomach—the same pang she always felt whenever her grandmother brought up the topic of children—she was filled with regret over giving up her own two little lovelies.She wanted to be the one to share the excitement with them when they said their first words, or when they first laughed or smiled, burped or the first time when they were potty-trained. She wanted to know where they were constantly, she wanted to go to their kindergarten graduation; she wanted to do so many things she couldn't. 

Yet, she knew it was all for the best. If her grandmother had only caught wind from one of the maids that her _little Rosetta_ was pregnant at such a young age she would have cut her off from the family just like she had her mother, Giselle's own daughter and the only Bruleur lady Rosetta knew nothing about. She didn't want her children to live a life of pain with her; she'd rather them be happy with someone else than see them spill unnecessary tears. 

"Why, when you were born your mother just a mere twenty-years-old, and look at you today: alive, healthy and perfectly fine! No thanks to her, of course, but alive nevertheless." 

It seemed like a good opportunity to tell her grandmother she did bear a child, two children actually, and she played out what would happen in her mind but eventually decided against it. If anything, her grandmother would have a heart attack right there on the spot. She would stutter, set her tea down and excuse herself from the table; her grandmother had taken her under her wing to nurture her so she would be of the right Bruleur blood, so she wouldn't turn out like her own mother—running away, degrading the family name, making it worth a little less. If she so uttered one line of the truth to her grandmother, the results would be harmful to both of them. 

All her life growing up she worked twice as hard as the other kids; she pushed herself to go through great lengths just for success. Her life goal was to prove she wasn't a thing like her good-for-nothing mother. Never would she get pregnant only to drop the kid off with it's grandmother, nor would she run away from her problems. 

Instead, she would turn out just like all the other Bruleur women: Successful, proud, happy, powerful, and_ rich._ A woman like her mother was frowned upon by the entire family tree, because being born into a family of wealth and power she had no right to break years of tradition. It was better to fit in with the rest of them than to stand out like her mother. 

"If anything should happen to you tomorrow, you would want to give something of yours to your children, wouldn't you? All I'm saying is it's better to have more than less, no?" Giselle finally stopped talking and waved her hand, causing two of the maids rushing towards her. One cleared away the table with the other showed her to her bedroom. 

Rosetta simply got up and headed back towards her room. As a child she had learned it was better to never answer or talk back to her grandmother, for the consequences could be dire. She remembered a time when she was younger she sat with her grandmother in the very same breakfast nook and had rolled her eyes and muttered to herself about the old woman after she left. Of course, her grandmother had instantly found out and had the whole conversation between herself and her subconscious replayed, courtesy of one of the maids. 

She shut the door and sat on her bed, overwhelmed by her emotion. After moments of much contemplation she walked over to her desk she had by the window overlooking the back of the house. Sitting down she grabbed a pen and paper, thinking it was time she put that good old music box to a good use. She was much too old for it now considering her mother had given it to her for her eighth birthday via mail. And what about the old pocket watch that belonged to her grandfather? God knew that her grandmother had no use for it, and neither would she. Why keep holding onto someone she never knew? 

As her last thought fluttered through her mind she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Even though she wanted to meet her children, it was up to their adopted parents to decide. 

_Why keep holding onto someone she never knew?_

The notion echoed in her head and she realized that in the same way she didn't care about the grandfather she had never known, her own children probably didn't care about her. If they were aware of the circumstances, which they weren't, than surely they would feel a bit of remorse or longing to see her. And wouldn't they want to know her, to hug her, to find out from where they got the soft features and blonde hair she had seen countless times from pictures she'd received from Dearby and Timothy?

She hoped so, because everyday for her was a struggle; everything she did reminded her of her pregnancy, like how she loved the taste of pickles and mustard or chocolate-covered pretzels, and the way she had constantly been visibly uptight about everything (including the demands to have the maids fired if they didn't clean the place up better and faster). She desperately wanted to see them, for once to touch them physically instead of just imagining them barge through the large wooden door and come running towards her. 

Rosetta walked over to her study desk, she put the pen and paper to use and started to write. 

_Dear Dearby and Timothy,_

_I'm very glad to see how the twins are maturing into the young adults they are. I know in my previous letters I may have come off as rude, and I apologize. Life has been as crazy as expected. Giselle has been recently pressuring me to have children and I couldn't help but digress about my own. Should I expose the truth? Should I tell her the truth about what happened? Even seventeen years later, the memory is hazy. I don't know what I should do; I fear I might end up like my mother. Forgotten, disapproved and disliked by the rest of my family. _

_This is one of the reasons I chose to give the twins up for adoption. I don't want them to grow up cold and protected from reality. Criticism is something they- we would have to face and continue facing until we depart. Surely this was the better of the two things to do but every day I can't help but wonder what life would have been like if I had kept them. _

_I wonder which has my love for strawberries and which one has my distaste for bleu cheese. I often wonder who has my blue eyes and who has my soft-mannered nature. I think about what I can offer them and then I think about what I can't and decide it was better for them to subsist with you. I must acclaim you on raising them with such class, but I do hope Sharpay is improving with that attitude of hers. Grandmother always said, "One bad apple always spoils the bunch, no matter what 'they' say." Which is why she made such a fuss about raising me up rather than letting mother do her job._

_It's been nice catching up but I've got a lot to do. I hope I'll be hearing from you two and the twins soon. I've left two little trinkets for Charlotte and Nathan- Oh my, we must do something about their names. I meant to say Sharpay and Ryan. The music box is for Sharpay and the pocket watch for Ryan. _

_All the best,_

_Rosetta Bruleur_

Rosetta read the letter over, placed it in an envelope and put it into her drawer. Grabbing another sheet of paper she edited it the Bruleur way, knowing full well she couldn't send the letter she wrote. Usually she wrote two letters, one for herself and the other for Dearby and Timothy. The first letter was just to reassure her that she was doing the right thing, and the second was the Bruleur-approved way. 

Even if Giselle knew nothing about what she was writing for, who was she writing to and why she was writing, it was how she was taught. You can never give too little information, but you can always give too much. This is why she never put her last name in any of the letters. She figured they knew enough about her as it was and she didn't need another one of Giselle's 'investment friends' tracing the letter back to her. 

Sighing she exited the room, fully dressed with the envelope in her pocket and the large box-like package in her hand. Making her way around to the back of the house, she left the package and the envelope with Dearby and Timothy's address in the gardener's supply room then scurried out looking for Mr. Jenkins himself. 

"Hello Miss Bruleur, how was your morning?" his dark eyes twinkled as he took off his sun-hat as a sign of respect. 

"Oh nothing much, I just had tea as usual. And you?" she smiled politely, brushing a blonde curl out of her face. 

"Same old coffee. Got anything for me today, Miss Bruleur?" he teased her playfully; his eyes looked at her knowingly. Rosetta looked reached inside her pocket once more and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and slapped it into his muddy glove as he stretched it out to shake her hand. Jenkins' face lit up as he saw the money and nodded in the direction of the shed-house. "Have a pleasant day, Rosetta." 

She smiled at him once more before heading back inside, silently thanking good old Mr. Jenkins who had managed to save her skin once more. 

_

* * *

_

XD

I figured it was time to post something. It's a little short but it's just like a prologue for Rosetta. Reviews?

-Ash 


End file.
